


Sleepover

by kakimashitaMOVED



Category: Free!
Genre: Frottage, M/M, i think i went overboard with tagging characters but oh well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-29 07:32:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1002668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kakimashitaMOVED/pseuds/kakimashitaMOVED
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haruka isn’t sure why the sight of his friend wide-eyed and excited is making him feel any different than usual, but it honestly worries him a little. Was something changing? Was his love for Makoto changing? Was that even possible for someone like him, who had only really cared about a handful of things in his short life? He gives an inaudible sigh, shaking his head in a short, jerky movement. It didn’t matter. There was one thing he was sure of, and that was that if he needed to talk, Makoto would listen, no matter what it was about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepover

**Author's Note:**

> I'M SORRY I SUCK AT TITLES BUT IT GETS THE POINT ACROSS  
> bluuuhhh i haven't uploaded any of my writing for such a long time omg quick take it//  
> makoharu because i'm sobbing over these perfect boys jfc  
> i posted this on tumblr a while back, so this version has been slightly edited because i've since found the time to properly proof-read and edit. though i always miss things, so sorry if/that there's mistakes in there.  
> please enjoy!! uwu

A small nudge on the side of his arm rouses Haruka Nanase from his light doze; he blinks slowly, sunlight flooding into his eyes from the open window to his side. Turning his head slowly, he examines his awakener, finding a pair of emerald green eyes gazing gently at him from the desk to his other side. His raises his eyebrows in question as Makoto Tachibana gives a soft chuckle. “Time for lunch, Haru.”

Oh, was it that time already? He must have drifted off for longer than he thought.

Makoto slips a folded piece of paper into Haruka’s closed notebook without a word – Haruka knows that it’s a copy of the notes he had most likely missed while he was napping. He’d told Makoto countless times not to do such things for him, but his friend was so insistent that he eventually just stopped trying to convince him.

“Did you bring your own lunch today?” Makoto asks, drawing Haruka’s attention back to reality. Haruka gives a small shake of his head, not taking his eyes away from in front of him as he packs his belongings into his school bag. He sees Makoto smile gently in his peripheral vision, head tilting to the side. “That’s okay. We can share my lunch.”

As they walk to the roof of the building for lunch, falling in step with each other as usual, Haruka thinks of how lucky he is to have a friend like Makoto. A friend who comes to his house every morning and makes sure he’s dressed and fed, gets him to school on time, is attentive to practically all of his needs and wants. He would be hopeless without Makoto looking after him, and he is grateful for his friend’s help. Haruka has never been very good at expressing his gratitude with emotions, so instead just tries to make sure he is always by Makoto’s side. This would usually take quite a literal form; it was almost impossible to see him separated from Makoto, even when they were kids. It had become as natural as breathing for both of them.

Nagisa greets them with a gleeful cheer, to which Haruka simply nods, making the small boy complain at his lack of enthusiasm. Haruka sits down gingerly next to Makoto, reaching for his lunch before he pauses, remembers he didn't bring any. Makoto notices, giving him that same lopsided smile he always has. It stirs something inside Haruka, makes him tingle.

After taking a few mouthfuls of lunch for himself, Makoto hands the bento and chopsticks to Haruka, who is waiting patiently, distracting himself with the dolphin charm strapped to his bag. It was a gift from Makoto for his birthday last year – it matches the killer whale charm his friend has on his own bag.

Nagisa, who was having a spirited conversation with Rei about the Regional Tournaments, now eyes Haruka suspiciously as he licks a stray grain of rice from Makoto's chopsticks. Rei and Haruka share a knowing glance; they know exactly what the blonde is about to say, as usual.

"Haru-chan," Nagisa begins animatedly, a dangerous flicker in his eyes. Haruka glances up at him, keeping his head angled down. "You're sharing Mako-chan's lunch again?"

Haruka swallows a mouthful of rice before answering. "I forgot to bring my own," he says flatly, and Makoto smiles nervously next to him. He hesitates slightly. "Again," he adds, focus returning to the lunch. He only takes another small mouthful of rice before handing the bento back to its owner. Makoto thanks him quietly.

"You're so forgetful!" Nagisa whines, slouching for emphasis. He sighs. "And anyway, Mako-chan should have reminded you!" Makoto makes a squeaking sound, and Haruka turns his head to look at him, curious. It seems the others are curious, too. "Didn't you remind him this morning, Mako-chan?"

Makoto gives a sheepish laugh, handing his bento to Haruka again without meeting his eyes. "Ah, sorry," he says quickly, addressing everyone with the apology rather than just Haruka, which confuses the blue-eyed boy for a moment. “I was... A bit distracted this morning. I guess I just forgot!”

There’s something in Makoto’s eyes – the way they waver when he says the word ‘morning’ – that tells Haruka there’s more to the subject than he’s letting on. He looks down at the bento slowly; Makoto hardly touched any of the food when he was holding it just now. Haruka suddenly doesn’t feel hungry, he feels sick, like he’s eaten too much. He blinks and gives his head a small shake, putting the lunch down in front of Makoto and scooting back a little, to signal that he’s finished. He can feel Makoto’s worrying eyes on him, but the taller boy doesn’t utter a word.

The sounds of footsteps dashing up the stairs make the tension hovering in the air around them slowly fade, and by the time Kou emerges from the slightly ajar double doors, struggling for breath and brandishing a sheet of paper, it’s completely forgotten. “Gou-kun!” Nagisa exclaims. “Why’re you in such a rush?”

Kou makes a face at the blonde when he says her name, but doesn’t make a move to correct him. Perhaps she’s given up on it, Haruka thinks. “I have a friend that’s on holiday in Russia at the moment,” She begins to explain, thankfully taking the spot Rei offers her when he shuffles aside to make room, pressing himself closer to Nagisa, who grins and leans against him. “And she sent me a letter! I just got it in the mail this morning!”

“Ah, that’s amazing, Gou-chan!” Makoto says with a smile. Haruka gives him a sideward glance, but looks away before Makoto can return it.

Kou nods ecstatically, not noticing the small exchange he and Haruka had just made. She presents the piece of paper to them all, gleaming in triumph as they all murmur, leaning in to get a closer look. Haruka doesn’t, obviously, more focused on watching Makoto. He notices faint, grey circles under his friend’s eyes, which he could have sworn weren’t there before. Makoto squints at the paper in front of his, leaning back for a moment and rubbing his eyes. Nagisa has snatched the letter away by the time he looks back, Rei trying to seize it from him, but he holds it out of reach, which Haruka thinks is remarkable considering Nagisa’s size.

Makoto pulls his bag towards him, fishing out his glasses and positioning them on his nose. It surprises Haruka – Makoto usually makes a point of only wearing them in front of people when he has to, so his eyes must really be bothering him. He’s told Makoto many times before that he looks fine with them on, and even that he likes the way they look on him, but his tall friend keeps insisting that he won’t wear them if he doesn’t absolutely have to.

Nagisa finishes reading the letter (although, he was moving around so much and giggling while trying to keep it away from Rei, Haruka doubts he actually read much of it) and hands the paper to Makoto, who accepts it with a soft ‘thank you’. Haruka finds himself shifting before he can stop himself, earlier feelings of discomfort gone; he rests his head against Makoto’s shoulder, scanning the letter’s content somewhat curiously. Makoto jolts a little at the contact, but he comes to his senses quickly, the soft hum of a chuckle vibrating through his body, which Haruka can feel in his cheek. Yes, this is much better, he thinks, the smallest of smiles tugging at the corner of his lips. Being friends with Makoto is simple and easy, and that’s all he really wants.

Nagisa makes a shocked noise, grabbing at Rei’s arm. “Hey, look! Haru-chan’s smiling!”

The look is wiped from Haruka’s face in an instant, and he sits up straight, avoiding the watchful gaze of his circle of friends. Their eyes feel heavy on his features, and he tries not to let the warm feeling rippling to the surface of his skin bother him too much. From beside him, he hears Makoto laugh quietly, a soft sound that lifts the weight from him without hesitation.

Thankfully, the bell takes that moment to ring, and Haruka stands quickly, swinging his bag over his shoulder. He waits slightly impatiently for Makoto to pack his things and stand up after him, glancing down every so often to view his friend’s progress. When Makoto finally stands, Haruka makes a pointed and hurried escape route towards the door, leaving the tall boy to trail behind him.

What was wrong with him? He didn’t think he’d had a lunch that painfully awkward since... well, never. He isn’t sure if Makoto feels the same way, but it isn’t really concerning him at the moment. There’s only one more class to go before the end of the day, and then they have club practice to get to – he’d have a chance to talk to him about it at some point.

Haruka feels Makoto's presence beside him as he keeps walking, and he frowns, suddenly hyper-aware of the things he's realising. Why is it bothering him so much?

Makoto can tell something is wrong, placing a hand on Haruka's shoulder. "Is everything okay?" he asks softly, gazing at Haruka with a concerned expression.

With his lips pressed in a hard line, Haruka meets Makoto's eyes, trying his best to keep calm. Makoto wouldn't let it go until he found out, if he thought something was definitely wrong. Although he would hardly ever pry and ask more than once, Haruka could always feel the curiousity eating at his friend, and sometimes it was just so painful to watch that he would just give in. "No, I'm fine," Haruka says carefully, voice controlled. He mentally curses at himself afterwards, the knowing look in Makoto's large green eyes telling him that his friend knew now that something was wrong. He gives Haruka an unconvinced frown, and Haruka looks away quickly. "... I'll tell you later."

This seems to satisfy Makoto for the moment, and the two of them head back to class in silence. Haruka can tell that Makoto dearly wants to know what's bothering his friend, but he seems to understand that they should wait to discuss it until a more private situation, and Haruka is glad for this.

Most of the last class is spent trying not to fall asleep, mainly to make sure that Makoto won't take notes for him again and finally take care of his own studies. Makoto was such a selfless person, Haruka often mused to himself. He always put other people's happiness in front of his own, which was good in a way, but it meant that Makoto frequently suffered the harsh consequences.

Haruka grimaces halting his thoughts. He doesn't want to think about that again.

Makoto is particularly silent next to him, but it's practically impossible not to notice how much he's fidgeting in his seat, presumably in anticipation. It reminds Haruka of an excited puppy. He finds his mouth being pulled upwards into a smile again, but forces it down before anyone but himself can notice.

The class ends in what feels like an eternity later, and Haruka is gone before Makoto can even stand.

He's itching to get into the pool.

~ ~ ~

Haruka feels very distracted while he swims, not bothering to complete Kou's schedule today. He'd rather just swim to his own accord, let the water relax him, help him calm down and think clearly. Kou is complaining to him non-stop, trying to get him to comply with her, but he just ignores her. "Don't worry about Haru," he hears Makoto tell her at one point. "He just needs some space."

She doesn't seem convinced, but she doesn't question him. Nobody ever questions Makoto. He always knows what's best.

Haruka loses himself in the pool, time seeming to stop around him as he closes his eyes, letting the water grasp him, pull him under, forget his troubles. It's an eternity before he opens his eyes again; the sky is turning a fading yellow colour, thin, wispy clouds floating slowly with the calm breeze, not enough to cause a chill, but enough to rouse Haruka from his dream-like state.

His feet touch the bottom of the pool as he stands up straight, water dripping from his hair and chest. He scans the area quickly, blue eyes wide and inquisitive.

Makoto is sitting by the edge of the pool, legs dangling in the water. He's leaning back on his hands, gazing up at the pastel-coloured sky with an expression on his face that Haruka can't quite fathom. It looks almost sad, but the soft, gentle smile that graces his features looks fond, and it makes Haruka shiver.

Makoto's eyes widen, and he looks down, locking gazes with Haruka as he realises he’s being watched. "Ah, Haru," he starts, sitting forward to look at him clearly. "Done already?"

Haruka can see the circles around Makoto's eyes even from this distance away, and they're getting progressively darker and bigger. He blinks slowly, swimming over to the edge where the taller boy sits. "I'm done," he says quietly, placing his hands on the edge of the pool and pulling himself out. It doesn't occur to him until after he's out of the water that he hasn't done that in a long time; Makoto usually has a hand extended, waiting to pull him out. He eyes Makoto with a small frown while the tall boy stretches and yawns. He looks incredibly tired, and it makes Haruka feel guilty for making him wait here while he soaked in the pool. "You could have called me out if you wanted to leave," he says, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them, shifting next to his friend.

Makoto’s eyelids flutter, confused. He offers a gentle smile before gazing out at the pool, that same fond expression as before. "But, you looked like you needed it, Haru-chan. You've been distracted all day."

Haruka's nose wrinkles at the '-chan', but he doesn't comment about it. He isn't really sure what to say at all, really. "Thanks," he offers after a minute, watching Makoto slide into the pool and wet his hair, pushing it back out of his eyes. "But you're tired. You shouldn’t have to wait for me.”

Haruka thinks that, as Makoto tilts his head and feels the skin around his eyes, perhaps he doesn't realise that he's tired. Makoto blushes lightly, absently scratching the back of his neck. "Maybe I am a little tired," he admits. "But that's fine."

 _No it isn't_ , Haruka wants to tell him, and he nearly does, but he holds his tongue. He stands and shakes out his deep blue hair, pausing for a moment to lean down and extend a hand to Makoto, who looks surprised for a moment, but the expression quickly melts away in favour of that same gentle smile. He clasps Haruka's hand tightly, lifting out of the pool and planting his feet on solid ground, gripping Haruka's shoulder quickly when he nearly topples backwards. Haruka frowns again when he lets out a nervous laugh - Makoto never usually loses his balance that easily. “Makoto,” he murmurs, retracting his hands. “About this morning. What was bothering you?”

Emerald-green eyes tighten ever so slightly in front of him. Makoto looks away for a moment, expression vague. “... Well, nothing, really,” He tries to explain, peeking back up at Haruka quickly. “I was just... trying to solve a dilemma?”

It’s a weak argument, and even Makoto doesn’t seem sure of it. Haruka wants to press on the subject, but he gets the feeling that it wouldn’t be right. “What about you?” Makoto continues hurriedly, trailing after Haruka as they walk to the change rooms. “Do you want to... talk about before? Why you were upset?”

“I wasn’t upset,” he denies a little too quickly, and he can feel Makoto’s enthusiasm draining fast after that. He attempts to continue without sounding too frustrated. “I was worried about you.”

Makoto freezes for a moment, forgetting how to walk. “E-Eh? Really?” He asks in disbelief. Haruka turns to look at him, eyebrows shoved together.

“Of course.”

Makoto’s face turns a light shade of pink, and he laughs timidly, forcing his legs to work again. “Well, that’s... very nice of you, Haru-chan.”

They change in silence; Makoto occasionally brings up a topic or two, but the banter is mainly one-sided. Haruka is distracted, wrapped up in his own thoughts, and Makoto can see it – eventually, he tentatively asks, “Haru, would you like to stay over at my house tonight?”

Haruka feels something constrict in his chest, heart beating madly at the question. He doesn’t lift his head, but he can hear Makoto’s elated laughter when he gives a taut nod. Sleepovers were like a sacred tradition to them; they had them so much that it was more common for them to be sleeping at the same house instead of different ones. Like mentioned before, it was as simple as breathing.

Makoto waffles on about his young siblings while they walk home – Haruka is content just to listen as he tells stories of his little brother and sister. They fall into step together, shoulders brushing lightly with the lack of space between them, and Haruka feels comforted, glaze flickering up to watch Makoto talk. His green eyes are glowing as he looks up at the slowly darkening sky, a magical aura seeming to surround him. Sometimes, Haruka wonders how Makoto can put up with his disinterest – doesn’t he feel offended that his best friend won’t ever initiate conversation with him? Of course, it wasn’t true at all. Haruka loved conversations with Makoto, even if he wasn’t adept at showing it with his words or expressions... But did Makoto know that?

Haruka isn’t sure why the sight of his friend wide-eyed and excited is making him feel any different than usual, but it honestly worries him a little. Was something changing? Was his love for Makoto changing? Was that even possible for someone like him, who had only really cared about a handful of things in his short life? He gives an inaudible sigh, shaking his head in a short, jerky movement. It didn’t matter. There was one thing he was sure of, and that was that if he needed to talk, Makoto would listen, no matter what it was about.

When Makoto opens the door to his home, the two of them stepping inside and slipping their shoes off, Ren and Ran round the corner and attack. They giggle delightedly, jumping on their brother and hugging him between their small arms. “Nii-chan! Nii-chan’s home!” They yell happily, while Makoto laughs heartily, the grin on his face strong and unwavering. It makes a small smile bloom on Haruka’s face, too.

Ran turns her head, spots Haruka. “Hey, Haru-nii is here, too!” She exclaims, pulling away from Makoto and rushing at him, throwing her arms around his waist. Ren follows suit in the following seconds, latching on as well. Haruka grunts as the force nearly throws him backwards; he looks over at Makoto, who’s watching him with the same shocked expression he can feel on his own face, but the taller boy’s features soften quickly, his smile almost apologetic. Haruka blinks slowly, but eventually his lips quirk up into a small smile too. His body relaxes as the twins squeeze him firmly, and he places his hands on their shoulder gently. The Tachibana family has always welcomed him into their home with warm arms when his own family had left him, and he could not be more grateful for that. He regards them as his family, the most important people to him.

Makoto’s parents leave the two older boys to their own devices for the most part, though they call them down from Makoto’s room when dinner has been prepared. Makoto usually makes a point of helping with the preparations, but not today, it seems. After the meal, he does, however, insist that he washes Haruka’s school uniform, and no matter how much Haruka argues with him he eventually gives up, beginning to strip right in front of his tall friend.

It doesn’t occur to him that that might not be the best idea until Makoto’s face is completely red, words jittering from his mouth anxiously as he slaps his hands over his eyes. “Ah, H-Haru! Not here!” He pleads, and Haruka stops, cocks his head to the side. Makoto peeks through his fingers, carefully removing his hands once he sees that Haruka has halted. “Um, I just mean, don’t you want to have a bath?”

Haruka raises his eyebrows, rolling his shoulders and loosening his tie enough to slip it off his neck. “Not really,” He murmurs, and it takes him several seconds to realise that Makoto is frozen in disbelief. His eyes widen. “Something wrong?”

Makoto makes a startled noise, walking over to his drawers stiffly. He pulls out a pair of his shorts and one of his old shirts, placing them on the bed. “Oh, um, no, nothing’s wrong!” He chuckles nervously, and Haruka frowns at the back of his head. “It’s just... Well, I don’t think you’ve ever turned down a bath, Haru-chan.”

He was right; it was rare for Haruka to turn down a bath at any time. He hesitates before replying, chewing in the inside of his cheek. “I didn’t want to miss any time with Makoto,” He answers in a plain voice, and his heart leaps into his throat when Makoto turn on his heels, eyes bright with amazement.

“Ha... Haru-chan...-”

Haruka swallows, flustered. “Drop the ‘-chan’ already, would you?” He begins unbuttoning his shirt, and Makoto gives a short burst of laughter, side-stepping around him and catching Haruka’s clothes when he tries to drop them on the floor. He says he’ll be back for the rest in a moment, and excuses himself from the room.

After Haruka has slipped his pants off, he pauses, fingertips hovering over the band of his underwear. Could he borrow a pair of these, too? They feel damp on his chlorinated skin, not very comfortable. Haruka glimpses at the door cautiously before pulling his underwear off, quickly reaching into Makoto’s drawer and pulling out a clean pair. This new garment feels soft and warm on his cold skin, and much looser than his own; his lips twitch as he swiftly dons the rest of the clothes Makoto has left for him.

When Makoto returns, Haruka flicks his head around, startled. “Ah, good, you’re changed...” His voice fades almost immediately when he spots Haruka’s underwear on the pile of clothes. “U-Um. Haru, you’re not...?”

“I borrowed a pair of yours,” Haruka says, cutting him off before he can even think to say it. “That’s fine, right?”

Makoto flushes brightly, a tense laugh escaping from between his lips. “Of... Of course! I should have asked if you wanted to borrow a pair in the first place.”

He’s gone again before Haruka can respond, leaving him to frown at the bedroom door he left ajar in his wake. He smoothes the shirt down over his chest, taking a second to inhale its scent (the scent of Makoto, the delightful smell of his friend that he can’t seem to get enough of at the moment) and hesitantly following the taller boy. They bump into each other in the hallway, both distracted and not paying attention. “Ah,” Makoto stutters. “Everything okay?”

Haruka straightens out of reflex, brows creasing. He points loosely over Makoto’s shoulder to the living room. “I thought we could watch a movie,” He offers, no actually sure where he was going, and just saying the first thing he thinks of.

“Oh!” Makoto seems to like that idea, smiling and nodding. “Sure! Sounds like fun!”

Haruka finds himself on the small sofa in Makoto’s living room, waiting while Makoto chooses a movie to put on. He turns occasionally and flashes a cover at Haruka in question, but Haruka isn’t much help, only ever offering a firm ‘no’ or a light shrug of his shoulders. Makoto isn’t angry (or even a little disgruntled, to Haruka’s amazement), just laughs and turns around again until he finds another title to suggest. Haruka can’t help but watch his friend’s back, the way his muscles flex when he stretches and twists, the small patch of skin on the small of his back that is left exposed when he bends over. Haruka blushes, covers his face with his hands. He knows he should probably feel ashamed of the indecent thoughts flowing like a stream through his mind, but he just _didn’t_. They were nice thoughts; thoughts he’d never had before today, sure, but they were still very nice.

“Haru, how about this one?”

Makoto’s voice makes him stiffen, peek through his fingers to stare at the DVD Makoto holds up. Makoto’s green eyes look curious, but they’ve lost that worried edge that they’ve had for most of the day. That’s good, at least.

Haruka doesn’t recognise the movie in Makoto’s hands, his own slowly lowering, attempting to wipe the blush off with them. “Sure,” He says in a small voice, hoping Makoto won’t notice the red tinge on his cheeks.

If he does notice, he doesn’t say anything – he grins and makes a move to put the movie on. Haruka takes the opportunity to give his head a vigorous shake, trying to snap himself out of it. It was just Makoto, right? He could tell Makoto anything. He just needed the right approach to the topic... not for Makoto to handle it but for himself to handle it. Emotional things were never easy for him.

Makoto swipes the remote from next to the television and plants himself down next to Haruka with a yawn, arms stretching above his head. Without thinking, Haruka leans over, settles himself into Makoto’s side while his arms are preoccupied. He holds his breath when Makoto goes rigid beside him, thinking maybe he shouldn’t have done that, it’s taking the whole ‘no personal boundaries’ thing way too far, but when he’s about to sit up and apologise, Makoto gives a light hum of approval, arm floating down slowly to wrap around Haruka’s shoulders. The blue-eyed boy looks up at him, seeing the happy expression on his face before ducking down again, leaning his head on the muscles of Makoto’s chest. He takes a shaky breath in, expelling it much more quickly than he intended. “Makoto...”

He feels Makoto shift at the sound of his name. “Mm? What is it, Haru?”

Twisting his fingers into Makoto’s loose shirt, he hesitates. How is he supposed to say what he’s been thinking? How is he supposed to convey this messy, disorganised pile of thoughts to Makoto, and what does he even want out of it? Does he want Makoto to make sense of them for him? Help him clean the mess up? He isn’t sure at all what he wants.

“Things are changing...”

The soft words that escape him are left hanging awkwardly in the air for a moment while Makoto tries to figure out how to respond, the movie now forgotten in place of a more important topic. Where is Haruka going with this? “Changing... How?” He prompts slowly, trying to approach the topic with care. He can feel Haruka’s fingers scrunched in his shirt, and he frowns inwardly, now a little worried.

Haruka takes another shaky, silent breath. “My feelings... are changing.” The sentence leaves his mouth sounding cut-off and wrong, but he can’t take it back now. He sits up, using his arm to brace himself, and he feels Makoto’s arm disappear, allowing him to leave if that’s what he wishes. An uncomfortable feeling pulls at his stomach. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

Makoto puts a hand on his thigh reassuringly. When he looks over at him, he’s smiling that gentle smile that always makes him feel so safe, protected. “You can tell me whatever you need to, Haru-chan,” He explains, fingers tightening on the material of Haruka’s borrowed shorts. “I’ll always listen to you. You know that.”

Haruka’s head feels fuzzy, eyes blurring when he blinks. He gives a hefty sigh, throwing himself back against Makoto’s chest and curling his legs up and folding them closer to his body. “Yeah, I know,” He murmurs, and thinks that maybe he doesn’t have to say anything about it. Maybe it will just explain itself.

Makoto twitches anxiously, and _of course he has to explain himself now, he’s sparked the fire_. A small groan pushes its way from him as he lifts himself up again to meet Makoto’s insanely curious eyes. He feels his eyes scrunch up, and his natural instinct is to run away from the conversation, but he forces his body to stay. “Makoto,” He starts for a second time, averting his eyes and instead focusing on the hand on his leg. “I just meant that... what I feel for...  how I feel about...”

This is getting embarrassing. Haruka runs a hand roughly through his hair, exasperated groan sounding from his throat. He is so terrible at this, even worse than he thought he was! Makoto’s expression hasn’t changed at all (albeit taking on a slightly startled touch), and he stays quiet, letting Haruka take his time to respond.

Haruka bites the inside of his cheek, grasping the hand on his thigh between his fingers now. He seemed to be better with actions than words, so that was what he’d try. Makoto’s name pushes past his lips, coming out quiet and strained as Haruka’s heart beat madly against his ribcage. He could feel the pulses vibrating through his entire body, tingling in his toes and making the hair stand on the back of his neck. He leans in cautiously, slow enough so that Makoto can figure out what he plans to do, and can be given enough time to stop it if that’s what he wants.

He tries to prepare himself for the moment Makoto pushes him away, leaves the room without a word, but it never comes. By the time Makoto even utters a noise, their faces are nearly pressed together, and Haruka can feel the green-eyed boy’s warm breath on his cheeks, soothing his agitated nerves. “H-Haru...” He stammers, voice breathy and barely audible, eyes wide as lips approach his. Their noses touch lightly, and Makoto closes his eyes; the sensation of Haruka’s skin against his own is wonderful.

Haruka closes the last small leg of the journey hastily, pressing his lips firmly over Makoto’s. The taller boy yelps in surprise, the hand that is still entwined with Haruka’s squeezes back. Haruka isn’t really sure how this is supposed to work – he’s never kissed anyone before. He can feel his mind start to overflow with thoughts; impractical thoughts that had no place being of any concern, but he’s worrying about them nonetheless. When he tries to pull away, red-faced and embarrassed, Makoto leans with him, not allowing him to break the contact.

Haruka squirms, mind completely clouded over and not letting him think properly, and it doesn’t help much when he feels Makoto’s tongue against his lips, trying tentatively to gain entrance into his mouth. Haruka’s body freezes, muscles going rigid underneath Makoto’s touch; Makoto notices immediately, pulling back before he can say anything. “A-Ah, sorry, I...” He utters, cheeks flushed a deep red colour. His lips are wet and shiny from the contact with Haruka’s. “I-I just... I didn’t realise you ... that that’s what you...”

Breathing heavily, Haruka manages to shake his head in a jerky motion, his piercing blue eyes locking with Makoto’s kind green. The blush spreads down Makoto’s neck, and Haruka twines his fingers into Makoto’s shirt for support. “Do that again,” He murmurs, pulling Makoto close once more. Makoto looks startled at first, but eventually relaxes in Haruka’s grip, gently pressing their mouths together again. Haruka doesn’t back away this time – his lips part eagerly, allowing Makoto to slip his tongue inside his mouth, exploring enthusiastically. His own exploration is hesitant, unpractised; he braces the palms of his hands against Makoto’s  shoulders, letting the taller boy do what he wants, simply enjoying the moment.

“Is this okay?” Makoto manages to gasp in between short pecks at his lips, tentatively planting kisses down Haruka’s jaw and neck. The noise Haruka lets out in response is needy and pathetic in his own ears, but he squeezes his eyes shut and nods feverishly because _oh god_ he doesn’t want this to stop, not now. The warm feeling building in his stomach makes him arch his back, pushing his chest into Makoto’s. Fingers caress the sides of his waist, his hips, slowly edging underneath the fabric of his shirt. Haruka voices another soft whine, barely controlling his hips as they try to buck against Makoto, who is trying desperately to get their bodies closer together. A hand skims over Haruka’s thigh, lingering there in desire, not knowing if it is allowed to venture further. Haruka scoots closer in response, making Makoto’s hand slip down and brush past his crotch; the blue-eyed boy clings to him, fingers digging into his back as Makoto gently palms his crotch. Every muscle in his body is tense with anticipation – everything is happening so quickly, yet it all feels _right_ , like this is what is meant to happen.

“A-Ah! H-Haru...” Makoto moans, sending tremors through Haruka’s back. He has one arm shoved under the smaller boy’s loose shirt, absently drawing patterns on his skin with the pads of his fingers, while his other rubs at Haruka’s growing erection, not doing much to relieve him of the pressure there but instead just making it more difficult to tolerate. Haruka feels Makoto’s fingers fiddle with the drawstring on his shorts, but in the very second he begins to tug on it, his mother’s voice calls out loudly from the other side of the house.

“Makoto! Don’t forget about the clothes you’re washing, okay?”

Makoto jumps in surprise, practically throwing himself to the other side of the sofa. Haruka is left in a daze, his mind not registering anything except the emptiness he is left with without Makoto’s body against his. Makoto exhales unsteadily, running a hand through his hair to calm himself. “Y-Yeah, I won’t!” He calls back, trying to sound composed and alert but instead sounding tired and breathless. He gazes at Haruka for a second, eyes taking in the smaller boy’s flustered figure before addressing him in a lowered voice. “We probably shouldn’t... d-do anything... n-not with my family here...” He mumbles, unhappy tone in his voice.

Haruka feels about as let down as Makoto looks, but he doesn’t say anything when the taller boy grimaces, lifts away from the sofa and leaves the room to check on the washing. Once he’s out of sight, Haruka collapses against the sofa, clutching at his chest as he struggles to regain his steady breathing. He had no idea that was going to happen, but it was better than any outcome he could have possibly imagined – the thought of having to leave it at that was honestly not an option for him right now. He looks over at the forgotten movie they had planned on watching; the menu screen plays on repeat, showing awkwardly cut scenes from the movie in a small box to the side of the menu’s options. He frowns at it for a moment before closing his eyes, breathing finally starting to settle.

He isn’t sure how he knows the exact moment Makoto returns but when his eyes flick open again, Makoto is rounding the corner into the room, reclaiming his seat next to Haruka. Haruka sits up immediately, half of him expecting a serious talk about their relationship while the other just wants to dive right back into their earlier antics again.

“Uh, sorry about that...” Makoto starts in a nervous voice, wiping a thin layer of sweat from the back of his neck. “But, um, the uniforms are drying, so they’ll be ready for tomorrow.”

Haruka nods, suppressing the rising scowl on his face with every ounce of effort he has left in his body. Isn’t he going to say something about what they did?

Makoto rambles, clearly flustered and avoiding Haruka’s topic of interest. Eventually Haruka can’t take it anymore, his gaze shifting to the taller boy and cutting off his words. “Stay at my house tomorrow night.”

It comes across as more of an order than a plea, but either way, Haruka imagines it would still elicit the same reaction. Makoto’s eyes are wide, his mouth hanging open with half-formed words still trapped in his throat. It’s obvious he doesn’t know what to say, so Haruka continues, voice stiff. “I live alone.”

The realisation strikes Makoto’s face suddenly, cheeks reddening as he comprehends the implications of the simple statement. “A-Ah, yes.” He pauses for a second, shuffling a little closer to Haruka so that their legs are pressed together, his teeth biting his bottom lip a little harder than he intends. “A-And I suppose this means that... that you have something in mind you’d like to... do? Tomorrow?”

Haruka can feel the way his mouth quirks upwards, making the beginning of what would be an almost fox-like smile, but he forces himself to keep it at bay. “Something like that,” He mumbles, letting a hand slide over Makoto’s thigh. Makoto shivers, but doesn’t tense or try to move away this time – _that’s better_ , Haruka thinks. _About time he loosened up._

They do end up watching the movie, but Haruka is fairly certain that neither of them pay attention to it. His hand remains fixed on Makoto’s thigh, stroking it from time to time and feeling the strong muscles there, marvelling at how solid they feel underneath his curious fingers. Makoto occasionally lets out soft, strangled sounds, shifting uncomfortably whenever his thigh is fondled, mouth open wide to keep his breathing soft and steady. It doesn’t work, of course, but it’s incredibly amusing for Haruka to watch. Their gazes lock every now and then, and they exchange the same knowing and eager look every time.

Haruka can’t wait until the movie is over.

~ ~ ~

The movie finishes surprisingly quickly, to Haruka’s delight. Makoto suggests (with a large wave of red splashing over his face) that they go to bed, saying something about school the next day, but all Haruka hears is the word ‘bed’ and his attention has been caught tight. Since they were little they’d always shared a bed, and neither boy had thought a great deal about it until now – would that still work? Would Makoto still want to share a bed, knowing what they had just done together? Would that change anything? Haruka stands abruptly, taking a few steps towards the doorway and eliciting a small chuckle from Makoto. He hastily shuts off the movie and follows Haruka to his bedroom. _Guess not,_ he thinks contentedly.

Haruka enters the room first, immediately sits down on the bed. When he looks back at the door and sees that Makoto hasn’t followed, he feels a sinking sensation in his stomach. He sighs inwardly, pulling the blankets back, slipping underneath and wriggling over to the far side. His breathing is becoming unsteady again, and honestly he can’t be bothered trying to calm himself down again, seeing as it wouldn’t do much good anyway when Makoto returns.

His heart flutters erratically when Makoto steps through the doorway, eyeing Haruka curled up underneath the blankets. He holds a bottle of water in one hand, which he sets down on the nightstand next to the bed and then clambers in beside Haruka. Before he can pull the covers over himself, he pauses, gives Haruka a sideward glance and stands again, moves to the door and shuts it. Haruka think his heart skips a beat when he hears the doorhandle click into place.

When Makoto returns to the bed, sliding in and pulling the blankets up, he leans over and switches the light off – the room goes dark instantly, but as Haruka’s eyes adjust to the new, dim setting, moonlight begins to fill the room, illuminating Makoto’s gorgeous features as he watches Haruka with that affectionate smile. Haruka feels hands grab at his waist, pulling them together. “Haru...” Makoto mumbles softly, the name leaving his lips like a breath of air. His hands rub over his waist, his stomach, his back, making Haruka’s abdomen tingle pleasantly. He lets out a raspy breath, and Makoto feels the hot air on his cheeks – he pulls Haruka closer to him, resting their foreheads together.

Makoto can barely contain himself as his fingers slip into the waistband of Haruka’s borrowed shorts, but the fastened drawstring makes it difficult to move his hand around. His spare hand, which was busy drawing aimless patterns over Haruka’s chest, moves down to the knot in his shorts and gently yanks it loose and open. Haruka’s arms wind around Makoto’s waist, hands resting in the small of his back, and it makes Makoto’s spine prickle in response.

“Hurry,” He hears Haruka rumble quietly, and his face flushes in embarrassment. Haruka just pushes his hips closer suggestively, an arm reaching to Makoto’s shorts to mirror his actions. Makoto sucks in a gasp, doing his best not to stay too tense, because he knows it’ll just put that frown back on Haruka’s face, and he doesn’t want that.

Haruka’s hands are faster than his own, making light work of the elastic waistband of his underwear and shoving his hand roughly down the front. A squeak escapes from Makoto’s lips, and he quickly clamps them shut again – Haruka gives him a curious look, the corner of his lips twitching gently.

It must have been a reassuring look he was trying to give, Makoto realises, because when he doesn’t move it dissipates into something sadder. With Haruka’s hand making contact with his bare, sensitive flesh, cool fingers completely and cautiously still, the blue-eyed boy leans in and places his lips against Makoto’s carefully; the action isn’t passionate or lustful, but rather supportive and encouraging, and Makoto feels his muscles loosen almost immediately, sinking in against Haruka’s hand. He parts his lips and allows Haruka in, eyes closed and simply letting his body _feel_ the moment.

Haruka’s fingers curl around his steadily hardening cock slowly, and Makoto is moaning before anything has actually happened. He tries to focus himself back on his own hands – it wouldn’t be fair if he didn’t help out. He manages to get his hands inside Haruka’s underwear as well, though he has to pull the layers of material down a little so that the space in question can cope with the addition of his hands. He hears a breathy laugh in his ear, the air that touches his skin hot and damp, and another shiver rolls through him. The exhilaration is starting to catch up to him, making him gasp softly into Haruka’s neck.

When Haruka begins to slowly move his hand, Makoto bites his lip with a little too much force. He squeezes his eyes shut, turns his head into the pillow in embarrassment while he lets out soft, muffled sounds of pleasure. It only seems to excite Haruka further, his hand picking up speed and his lips nipping at Makoto’s jaw. Makoto tries with all his might to move his hand, but he’s too flustered to get any kind of rhythm or pace going. He peeks at Haruka hesitantly, expecting him to be upset; instead he is met with what he can say with absolute certainty is one of the most erotic things he has ever seen. Haruka’s cheeks are bright red, the colour starting to seep down into his neck; his eyes are half lidded and cloudy, and his lips are parted softly, ruby-red and wet with saliva. To accentuate this, his tongue darts out to wet them again, most likely more out of habit than necessity. Makoto swallows nervously when Haruka’s attention focuses and lands on him, and he ducks his head, trying again to find some kind of rhythm with his hand.

“You okay?” Haruka asks hoarsely, quickly swallowing after he speaks. Makoto doesn’t answer at first, cheeks burning, but he eventually makes an agreeing sound in the back of his throat, affirming it with a shaky nod. He feels completely inadequate compared to Haruka while doing these things, and it fills him with a kind of disappointment that he can’t quite understand. Haruka seems to notice, moving his head forward again and nudging their noses together. His hand is still firm around Makoto’s dick, making deliberate and lengthy strokes to make Makoto arch his back slightly in suppressed pleasure. “You don’t seem okay. Do you want to stop?”

“Wh-What? No!” His voice rises above a whisper and he stops immediately, hastily composing himself before speaking again in a more hushed tone. “I-I’m just a bit embarrassed, I guess...”

He offers a weak smile, but Haruka presses the subject. His gaze glances down to his crotch and back up in a less than a second, and Makoto is surprised he noticed. He flushes, trying to turn his head away again, but Haruka’s words stop him. “We could try something else if you don’t want to do this.”

Makoto blinks, not exactly sure what Haruka means at first. Sensing the lack of understanding, Haruka removes his hand from Makoto’s pants, Makoto retracting his as well, startled. “H-Haru?”

Haruka remains silent, lifting his body up and shifting to straddle Makoto’s hips. Before he settles himself down, he places his hand on either side of the green-eyed boy’s garments, slowly slipping them down enough to expose a painfully hard-looking erection. Makoto lifts his hips helpfully, biting back the strangled sound he can feel trying to break out of his mouth. Haruka, meanwhile, wriggles his own attire down a little further before quickly deciding it’s too uncomfortable and removing the whole thing. He settles his body gently between Makoto’s legs, shifting forwards so that their cocks brush together lightly.

Makoto hisses and tilts his head back; Haruka’s back tenses and straightens out, the blanket falling from his back with the new level of elevation. The sensation sparks immediate arousal in both of them, heightening the already heated atmosphere around them. Haruka leans down, letting his lips dust over Makoto’s collarbone and enjoying the squirming response it induces. His tongue slips out between his lips, and he lets the muscle run over Makoto’s skin, tracing the line of his collarbone slowly; he can hear Makoto’s elated gasps, the taller boy trying frantically to grind their hips together without being too obvious about it. Haruka thinks it’s cute, if he’s being completely honest.

Slowly and carefully, he starts to roll his hips over Makoto’s, his mouth latching on to the skin he’d spent his time wetting with his tongue. Makoto spasms in surprise, both actions getting the better of him, but Haruka holds him down, one hand on his shoulder and the other wrapped around his wrist. Makoto lets out a breathy whine, the arm that isn’t trapped coming up and over Haruka’s back to wrap around him, holding them together. Haruka reluctantly lets go of Makoto’s neck, needing to catch his breath. A small strand of saliva stretches out as he tilts his head away, and Haruka feels his cheeks redden embarrassingly.

“Haru,” Makoto gasps, unable to control his hips any longer and thrusting them upwards, creating a delightful sensation through Haruka’s body. His frame is jostled lightly, and his hands slip from Makoto’s skin to twine into the bed sheets around him – he grits his teeth, pushing his own hips against Makoto’s in response. Before too long, the room is filled with the low-pitched moans and pants that escape them both, the air thick and hot against their skin.

Haruka shoves his lips against Makoto’s roughly – he couldn’t care less about being gentle anymore. The same heat that he could feel coiling in his abdomen before is back, spreading farther this time and threatening to spill out of him as the two of them buck their hips frantically against the other’s, desperately trying to keep their voices down. “Makoto,” Haruka mumbles against the taller boy’s lips, throat burning from lack of air, but he can’t bring himself to pull away for a more lengthy breath. “Don’t stop...”

Eventually he has to pull back, head feeling fuzzy from the lack of oxygen. The action makes his dick lose contact with Makoto’s, and feels unsatisfied and empty immediately after. To his surprise, Makoto’s hand extends upwards with a jerky motion, grasping Haruka’s hardened member and holding it against his own, rubbing them together. It takes every ounce of effort for Haruka to keep his voice subdued to a whisper. “M-Makoto-!”

Makoto leans up and covers Haruka’s mouth with his own again, tongue plunging into his mouth without asking permission. Haruka doesn’t mind at all – the feel of Makoto’s dick sliding against his own with the added pressure of the other’s hand wrapped around them and holding them together is completely euphoric, he couldn’t bring himself to care even if he wanted to. Makoto’s hand is moving faster by the second, both boys quickly reaching their peak, and Haruka buries his flushed face into Makoto’s shoulder, letting out choked gasps as he waits impatiently for his climax to hit. He’s painfully close, _so close_ that he could cry out in pure, heated anticipation. His nails dig into Makoto’s back, and he’s sure he leaves scratch marks on the tender skin there. “H-Haruka,” Makoto moans tentatively in his ear, and the sound of his full name tears into him, wracking his body with tremors and shudders.

Haruka is sure that if he hadn’t clamped his mouth over Makoto’s shoulder he would have made a noise so loud it would’ve woken up the whole street, let alone Makoto’s family. He sinks his teeth in to the flesh (though he tries his hardest not to, he doesn’t want it to be painful), managing to only let loose a quiet groan of ecstasy, and with a few more hasty strokes from Makoto’s hand he’s suddenly climaxing, the other hand on his back rubbing in soothing motions. Makoto wouldn’t have admitted it if he was asked, but he still hadn’t reached his peak. _Selfless idiot_ , Haruka thinks, hurriedly throwing his hand down and gripping Makoto’s cock in his hand. He pumps him quickly, feeling short, gasping breaths on his shoulder and being rewarded with a satisfied sense of joy flooding through him. Makoto gasps and immediately squeezes his mouth shut, gripping Haruka and holding him closer to his chest as he orgasms, spilling over Haruka’s hand.

Sounds of breathless gasps fill the dark room as the two embrace each other, riding out their blissful climaxes, finally slumping against each other in complete and utter exhaustion. Haruka lifts his hand away, feeling the hot, sticky substance between his fingers – it’s somewhat unpleasant, but at the same time he feels almost elated. A wave of drowsiness begins to wash over him, and he barely manages to suppress the yawn building in his throat.

Makoto, being the altruistic, motherly person he is, seems completely awake after his own orgasm fades. He reaches to the bedside table, grabbing a handful of tissues and bringing them down to Haruka’s chest. He hadn’t noticed before, but his borrowed shirt has been spattered with the same sticky, white substance that he found on his hand. He feels a little guilty that he didn’t take more care to remove all of his clothes, but he was too caught up in the moment to remember. His chest heaved as Makoto wiped as much of the mess away as he could from their clothes and bodies. “Makoto,” He begins quietly, and Makoto glances at him, making a questioning noise in response. Haruka sighs, closing his eyes. “I like it when you use my whole name.”

Haruka hears a quiet chuckle, a nose brush against his ear. “You mean like this?” He leans in closer for effect, mouth forming the syllables of his name deliberately slowly. “Ha-ru-ka...”

A shiver rolls through Haruka’s spine and he exhales loudly, twisting his fingers into Makoto’s shirt. The brunette just gives another quiet chuckle, discarding the tissues in his hand once he’s satisfied with the clean-up effort and flopping back down against the pillows. Now, Haruka realises, he does look completely spent, eyelids drooping and breathing slowing down. Haruka retrieves his underwear and shorts from the side of the bed before laying back and joining him, slipping the garments back on so he looks at least somewhat decent. Makoto’s arms curl around him reflexively, and he pushes their foreheads together gently. Haruka doesn’t need to look at him to know that he’s smiling from ear to ear.

He could probably sleep like this, he thinks, with Makoto holding him close to his body heat, prickles of contentment coursing through him, but he knows they can’t do that, not yet anyway. They really need to talk about this, just for a moment at least. “Makoto,” He tries to say in a serious tone, and he isn’t sure if he got it right but it gets Makoto’s attention which is good enough for him. “Can I ask you something?”

Makoto looks a little surprised, but he nods, slowly pulling the covers back up and over them and sending a spark of warmth through Haruka’s skin. “Sure, anything.”

Fingers tense on Haruka’s hips. He draws in a small breath. “This changes things for us now, right?”

Makoto blinks, stays silent for a moment. He looks hesitant when he slowly responds. “I... I guess so,” He agrees, but falls quiet again afterwards, and Haruka frowns.

“Do you want things to change?” He tries, putting light pressure on Makoto’s arm with his slender fingers.

“Um...” Haruka isn’t sure why this is taking so long. It’s a fairly simple question, isn’t it? “Maybe,” He answers finally, red faced and avoiding Haruka’s eyes.

Why does he have to be so difficult? All he wants is a straight answer. “Did you want to kiss me this morning?” He questions swiftly, hoping the more direct query will get him a better answer. When Makoto doesn’t respond, he adds, “You seemed eager when we kissed in the living room.”

A mixture of sheer embarrassment and a broad excitement floods onto Makoto’s face, and he nods with vigour. It’s as if he’s wanted Haruka to ask him that question for a long time. “Yes, I wanted to kiss you this morning.”

“And before that?”

“Hm?”

“Have you wanted to kiss me before today?”

Haruka watches as Makoto’s enthusiasm wilts ever so slightly in favour of nervousness, and he thinks that maybe he was being a little too pushy. Makoto’s face begins to redden again, the colour bleeding out to cover most of his neck as well. “Well...” He begins shakily, clearly his throat with a quiet cough. “I... Uh, the truth is, I’m not really sure?” Haruka stares at him until he continues, flustered. “I-I haven’t really understood what this feeling is that I have, Haru. It wasn’t until this morning that I thought it might be-”

The words catch in his throat and Makoto clams up, managing to turn a deeper shade of red than before. Haruka tilt his head in towards the taller boy, a prompting expression on his face. “Might be what?” He asks, already knowing the answer. He wants to hear Makoto say it.

“Ah, um, might be a crush?” He chokes out, coughing.

Haruka glowers in his general direction, disappointed. “You weren’t going to say ‘crush’ before.”

“What do you mean? Of course I was going to-”

“You were going say it might be love.”

“Wh-What?”

“You wanted to say you love me.”

“N-No, I-”

“But you didn’t want to scare me off.”

“Well-”

“But that’s ridiculous.”

“I know it’s ridi-... Huh?”

“You could never scare me off.”

“I-I couldn’t?”

Haruka plants a quick, chaste kiss against the heated skin of Makoto’s forehead, enjoying the way it seems to darken where he makes contact. “You won’t scare me off... Not possible. Never has been, never will be.”

It’s the most romantic thing he can bring himself to say. Words have never been his strong point, so instead he hold Makoto’s head gently to his chest, hoping the erratic way his heart beats in his chest gets his point across better than his voice ever could. He can feel Makoto’s arms shaking around him, fingers curling into his shirt; Haruka places a hand on Makoto’s shoulder reassuringly. When Makoto lifts his gaze and meets Haruka’s eyes with his own, the shorter boy can see the tears welling up in his friend’s vibrant green. “Makoto?” He questions quickly, slightly concerned now.

Makoto wants to talk, but he’s breathing too heavily. He lets out a genuine smile, wipes a hand over his eyes before giving a short burst of nervous laughter and embracing Haruka even tighter in his grip. They stay like that for a while, in complete silence, just content to hold each other until sleep sets in. “Haruka...” Makoto murmurs after a while, but that’s all he hears. Haruka is confused for a moment until he hears a soft groan, and the taller boy shifts, burying his face deeper into Haruka’s chest – He’s fast asleep.

A light, fluttering feeling spreads around Haruka’s body, a smile twitching at his lips. He sighs quietly, concentrating on the sound of Makoto’s breathing and matching his own to it, letting his eyelids slip closed and allowing the drowsiness to overwhelm his senses. He thinks to himself that he could get used to this – before, even though the bond between him and Makoto was strong and boundaries were minuscule in number and nature, now it was like they had all been washed away as he held his friend to his chest. It felt better than it ever had before, felt more natural to be holding him close rather than keeping him at a respectful distance, felt _good_.

Haruka’s mind flashes suddenly back to what he’d said in the living room; his invitation to spend the night at his house tomorrow. He’d said it under the impression that nothing was going to happen tonight, but now that it had, would Makoto not want to stay over? Would he not want to do more, or would he want to go further? His breath hitches in his throat at the thought of doing _more_ with Makoto, and he has to force himself to calm down before he gets too excited again.

After a few calming breaths, he squeezes his eyes shut as tight as he can, until he’s confident he won’t open them again. He relaxes his muscles, his whole body feeling heavy and worn out from the day’s events. His mouth curves into a soft smile, pulling Makoto closer to his body, as if trying to merge with him and become a singular being. Makoto shifts and rubs his nose against Haruka’s chest, and the sensation is gentle enough to finally push Haruka over the edge and into unconsciousness, letting his mind fall into the deep abyss of the world of sleep. The last thing he remembers before he slips off the edge is Makoto’s soft hair brushing against his face and his long, slender fingers twining in his shirt.

**Author's Note:**

> next part will hopefully be finished soon, but please don't hold me to that as i'm about to go back to school and will probably run out of spare time. :C nevertheless, i'll do my best to get it done asap!!


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